


would it be enough

by 7a3ira



Series: Swift, T. (2020) folklore, 15. [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25624921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7a3ira/pseuds/7a3ira
Summary: what they have, it's enough
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: Swift, T. (2020) folklore, 15. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857505
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. [verse 2; line 7]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence reassures Kageyama

* * *

> _Give you the silence that only comes_
> 
> _when two people understand each other_

* * *

It’s silence that permeates the hall this time. The kind of silence that’s full. The satisfying emptiness of an afternoon of a collection of brief touches on the ball, of eyes following every move of his teammates, of his opponents. Kageyama takes deep breaths as he finishes his round of stretches, the inside of his thighs groaning slightly as he arches to his left, fingertips gripping the toe of his shoe. Through the gaps in his sweaty fringe, he sees Hinata similarly cooling down, legs silhouetted in a diamond as he holds his feet together, elbows carefully pushing his knees down and face leaning forward until the musty scent of the floor floods his nose. 

The rest of the team had already left for the change rooms half an hour ago; Hinata begged Kageyama to do a “few” more tosses in their absence. Even in their third year, Hinata’s thirst for playing, for staying on the court as long as he could, could never quite be quenched. It was only when Hinata overshoots one of his jumps and nearly crashes face-first into the net that Kageyama calls it quits for one day. Definitely not because his own knees were trembling and sweat was dripping so heavily into his eyes that his vision was continuously blurred. 

The exhaustion that comes from playing is one Kageyama thinks could never be emulated. And the quiet that comes after is something he’s come to cherish. In their first year, Hinata and Kageyama wouldn’t even be able to go one conversation before bursting into raucous argument. Many chairs and countless bruises are the testimony to their banter. Kageyama likes to think that they’ve grown up a bit. At least now they have the decency to fight on the grass where the worst thing that could happen was a scraped knee and muddy streaks on their faces. The responsibility that weighs on their shoulders is a constant reminder that there’s no one else for him to look up to anymore, to look towards when he needs a guiding compass or comforting reassurance. Co-captaincy wears itself in the way Kageyama double-thinks every reprimandation, the way he presses rewind again and again late at night when he reviews games. He knows Hinata feels the same by the way he stills for a moment, momentarily contemplating whether he should shout the first thought that comes into his mind when they make announcements to their team but doesn’t. He’s grateful for the courteousness. But hesitation has never sat well on Hinata. 

“Are you nervous about Nationals?” he asks, breaking their silence.

Kageyama takes a moment, looking inwardly and letting the question sit within him before he answers.

“No,” he replies. “We’ve trained and practiced as much as we could. There’s nothing else to do but go on the court and play.”

Hinata laughs at his straightforwardness.

“Of course,” he smiles, “even for Nationals, the King of the Court isn’t nervous.”

It’s only because no one else is here, Kageyama tells himself, that he leaps forward and tackles Hinata to the ground, hand on the crown of his head and ruffling the already messy curls. Somehow, he doesn’t find it disgusting- running his hand through sweaty, sticky hair. Somehow, he _does_ find that his belly warms at the ensuing laughter from under him, Hinata’s eyes squeezed in mirth and arms flailing desperately to cease Kageyama’s tickling. He saves both pieces of information to analyse later like one of their plays and only stops when Hinata’s begs for mercy are mixed with tears forming at the corners of his eyes. His gaze was nowhere near threatening. But when his threatening gaze turns into a stare that doesn’t break, Kageyama has to still, hands remaining curled around Hinata’s waist and legs pinning his knees. Hinata’s head turns at an angle, curiosity evident in his eyes but not asking why Kageyama freezes. It takes five blinks and an arbitrary amount of breaths shared before Kageyama dismounts, careful to not put any excessive pressure on their sore limbs. He extends his hand, the action natural enough that he doesn’t question it anymore, but still a little strange by the way it stiffly lifts.

“Are _you_ nervous?” he asks back, ignoring the shift in atmosphere.

A flicker of confusion dashes across Hinata’s face, coming and going too quick for Kageyama to be sure whether it actually happens. His concern fades at the bubbly reply Hinata gives.

“Yes!” he answers with a bounce of his feet. “But I think that makes everything even better.”

These are the words that Kageyama can't seem to stop thinking about when they go back to the changeroom.

_Nervous? Is that what I felt?_

When they’re on the bus to Tokyo.

Can _I be nervous around Hinata_?

When Tsukishima’s watch beeps midnight the night before their game.

 _What am I nervous about_?

His mind spews countless of answers, theorises a thousand possibilities, but his mouth remains closed. 

It’s the silent grin Hinata gives him, though, on their way to line up before the game, not a single tooth hidden and cheeks almost touching his eyes that quells Kageyama’s questioning. Who needs words when your silence answers everything. 


	2. [verse 2; line 4/5]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata tries to console.

* * *

_ And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences/  _

_ sit with you in the trenches _

* * *

In the time that it takes Kageyama to handle the ball and the sound of it against the opponent’s floor, Hinata thinks himself the luckiest person in the world. That he’s allowed to play Nationals once more. Despite this, the lights still seem uncharacteristically bright, ceiling impossibly tall. He gulps down heaving mouthfuls of air, as much oxygen as he could fuel his muscles to reach further, run forward, jump higher. And when those jumps are met with a perfectly-set ball that seemingly hovers in the air before him, or maybe he feels its call first and can’t help but follow, Hinata vows that he’ll never stop. Never stop trying, never stop his perpetual motion. He gives with everything he has and more. Plays as if each game could be his last- only this time, in one way or another, it will be. 

His mind doesn’t linger on the future melancholy, though, when the whistle blows and the scoreboard ticks that they’ve taken the first set, barely managing to avoid a deuce. A roar escapes his chest as he bends over, eyes shut tight and hands balled into triumphant fists. It’s not long before he feels a kick to the back of his thighs, rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and Hinata whirling around to send Kageyama a smack across the head. There’s probably only one universe out of a thousand where Kageyama’s reflexes actually allow that to happen and, so, Hinata’s hand is cleanly halted by a grip on his wrist, Kageyama grinning maniacally down at him.

“That’s no way to treat your setter.”

“Try not breaking my arm will you?” he shoots back. “This is kind of our weapon to win, you know?”

Kageyama scoffs but still let’s go.

“Dumbass, how would  _ your  _ arm even score anything if  _ my _ hands weren’t there to set.”

“I’d just ask our kouhai.”

“Why you little-”

Their descent into madness is only stopped when Coach Ukai walks over, placing a hand on each of their faces and pushing them away. 

“Alright, save the fighting for when the game is actually  _ over _ , boys.”

“Yessir!” they reply in unison, but Hinata still throws Kageyama a silent raspberry when Coach’s back is turned. 

They follow their cheering team to the sidelines. Towels dropped into their hands and the sound of water bottles emptying reminds Hinata that they’re still not done yet. They can’t be complacent and he can’t be reckless. This is their last shot to win it all with Karasuno. At the memory of his seniors’ crestfallen faces, bravado thinly veiling piercing disappointment, he clenches his fist again, promising that he wouldn’t do that to his own juniors.

“Hey, don’t think so hard,” Kageyama says from the left of the bench, a half-hearted punch to Hinata’s shoulder accompanying his words. “You’re gonna hurt yourself,” 

But if there’s something that Hinata’s learnt about Kageyama over the years, past lining up his jumps for their quick timings and that giving up isn’t a phrase in either of their vocabularies, it’s that he tries his best at the things he cares about. So when Hinata is doubtful, Kageyama throws him an empty insult, bringing them back to equilibrium and reminding Hinata that nothing’s changed. That all he has to do is hit Kageyama’s sets. To work hard every day. To keep stoking the fire in his chest for more, more, more because who else would be able to keep up with him?

Despite what people say, Hinata’s not stupid. He knows what loss means. How it feels. Like a blanketing heavy weight but also a thousand paper cuts. Nothing is set in stone. He knows that losing is just as much a possibility as winning. But it’s kind of difficult for him to keep logic in check, when Kageyama reminds him, again and again, in his words, his actions, his silent conviction that screams he will never give up. And definitely not hold back. Especially for Hinata. So when the whistle that marks the end of their game break blows and he sees Kageyama’s hand outstretched, he pours every ounce of belief into the contact, forcing any impossibility that could’ve been hiding in the crevices to depart. Their eyes meet and it’s inessential, Hinata’s next words.

“Let’s win.”

_ Of course _ , Kageyama’s smirk says, eyes rolling at the redundancy of Hinata’s words. Somehow, Kageyama makes Hinata believe in impossibilities. 

/

It’s too late for it to be acceptable for Hinata to sneak out of his futon under the excuse that he can’t sleep, too early to say that he just wanted the day to start already. But when he hears the rustle of Kageyama’s blanket, pausing for a moment before pulling it off fully and trudging with socked feet to the door, Hinata doesn’t have it in him to wait more than a minute to follow.

Kageyama didn’t bother to turn the lights on so Hinata has to rely on the gaps where the curtains almost meet the windowsills, silver moonlight barely illuminating his way. Instead, he follows the slightly-less muffled sound of cars and warm wind from the open balcony door, stepping toe-first onto the tiles and slowly sliding the door behind him. 

Kageyama doesn’t acknowledge his presence, vacant gaze across the hotels and streetlamps holding his impassive attention. Cringing when he knocks his elbow against the railing, he hopes the metal clanging isn’t loud enough to wake the sleeping. When he pouts at his clumsiness and carefully caresses the calluses on his elbow, he hears Kageyama's low voice grumble. 

“I wanted to win.”

“I know.”

It’s not really silent, Tokyo never really is, but they speak words no more. Hinata thinks Kageyama already knows, anyway, by the way he stared a little too long when Hinata came back from the bathroom, eyes bloodshot and nose running heavily even after being vigorously wiped by multiple tissues. Hinata thinks he might’ve stood too long, as well, seeing how Kageyama’s shoulders were almost to his ears and how his hand clenched into fists so tight the tension ran all the way up his arm. Their teammates shuffle dejectedly around them, quiet murmurs from Ukai and Takeda puncturing the sniffles and suppressed sobs. Hinata doesn’t know how to reassure, how to console. He’s just been lucky that his words were bold enough, brash and so undeniably honest in their utterance that people had no option to believe them. 

When he sees Kageyama so empty, though, too tired to even quip with Hinata or pretend he’s annoyed, Hinata wishes he knew what to do. His own voice brings the present back to him. 

“It’s not the end, though,” Hinata begins tentatively, hugging his elbows despite the pleasant air.

He sees Kageyama contemplate this, biting the inside of his cheek and eyebrows gathering in shallow lines. He says nothing. Reaching for the impossible has to end with a closed throat and stinging eyes eventually. 

/

His family was the one who called first, the morning after the finals, congratulating him on second place. His mom says that she’s never been prouder and Natsu reminds him of his promise to get her a t-shirt from the tournament. But their voices only serve to remind Hinata that this is his reality. The phone is choked in a vice of Hinata’s making, lips pressed together by his teeth to make sure the sound of his whimpers don’t go through the phone. 

“Shoyou?” his Mom asks, Hinata not realising he had missed her questions.

“Yes?” he answers, waver in his voice marking his hands red.

“Shoyou…” 

The second time she says his name, he can’t hold back his tears, gushing hot and angry.

“I wanted to win, Mom,” he whispers.

She tries to console him and he attempts to reign in the edges of the hole in his chest. 

The hole only grows larger when he sees Kageyama later that morning staring emptily at his medal. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he hears someone say before Hinata realises his open mouth was the culprit. “It doesn’t matter if we didn’t win,” he manages to say, even though his heart still squeezes in agony. “I’ll still jump for every set.” 

And when Kageyama slowly lifts his head to meet his stare, eyes dark and mouth a harsh line, Hinata’s worried he might’ve said the wrong thing. That is, until Kageyama closes his eyes for a brief moment and places the medal around his neck.

“Assuming that all my sets are for you, are they?” 

Hinata breaks into a grin. 

Only through the bus trip back home can they escape the smell of pollution, the feeling that life was perpetually on fast forward. Hinata sits next to Kageyama, calling dibs on the window seat and Kageyama only has the energy for an eye roll and light shove for Hinata to quickly take his place. Even though Hinata’s body cries in pain, stomach still twisted in a million knots and the taste of lost bitter on his tongue, he doesn’t regret choosing this spot. Beside Kageyama. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this was meant to have more of Kageyama being upset and Hinata trying to make him feel better but oh well I like this too. I hope you enjoyed reading! The last chapter of this work will be up soon hopefully :D


	3. [verse 1; line 1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They end how they begin

* * *

“ _ Our coming-of-age has come and gone _ ”

* * *

  
  


The gym crackles with the occasional slam of the ball against the ground, their heaving breaths in time with the rhythm. Otherwise, it remains void of sound, as if cocooned from the outside world. Hinata leaps and sees a clear view of the unusually empty court, chest skimming easily above the edge of the net and he wonders if this feeling will ever fade. The view at the top leaves him even more breathless than he already is. Exhaling every last molecule of oxygen in his lungs, Hinata spikes in the same breath, palm connecting with the ball at the peak of his jump. Echoing through the floorboards, Kageyama was too far left to stop the ensuing clap of thunder. Hinata floats back down, hair lifting like a crown before settling in messy waves.

“I win.” 

Kageyama only picks up the ball and spins it on his finger, eyeing the way the blue and yellow streaks coalesce into an unintelligible blur. It’s barely a blink’s duration before the ball makes a beeline for his head, Hinata too out of position to receive it and thus having to duck to avoid having his brains splattered on the ground behind him. 

“Now we’re tied.” 

Hinata laughs the fleeting fear off, not envying the person who has to face that. And despite his previous statement of victory, they spend the rest of their afternoon in distilled rapture, hoping that with each bruise to their knees and red to the inside of their arms, that they embed their memories into the walls. 

It’s only when Kageyama feels like he has to keep his eyes blown open to not get pegged by the ball that they silently agree to stop. The last vestiges of golden hour peek through the window bars, caressing the gym with gold fingers and soft edges. He marvels at the way it looks like Hinata’s head is on fire, a crown of flames encircling his head and eyes like translucent honey. He grins and Kageyama feels his lungs empty. 

“See you later, Kageyama!”

It takes him a moment to reply.

“Yeah, see you later.”

And he believes in this more than anything. 

/

They stand with their backs towards their parents, Karasuno emblem superimposed against the dark background. They weren’t allowed to wear their jerseys at the ceremony but as soon as they escaped the steaming hall, they pulled them out from their bags, arms stabbing through the holes and seams tight against their shoulders. Kageyama pins this photo on the wall above his table. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this story was like really short but I'm actually kind of proud of myself for being able to hold back on the word count since usually it runs away from me. Anyways it doesn't end here, I already have the first chapter for the next part done so be on the look out for that! Grateful for any and all the kudos and comments <3 Would love to hear any thoughts!

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhh i was so excited for this that I wrote this all and posted it in one day. I've been on a huge kghn binge recently and this hyperfixation is definitely not gonna go anywhere soon. It's my first time making something for this fandom but I've loved Haikyuu since i was in Year 8 (im in uni now sdldfkslj). Happy 8 year anniversary and end of HQ btw!! Also this is evidently heavily inspired by Taylor's new album (don't you think it's perfect for kghn???) so I highly recommend giving it a listen! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I anticipate splitting this story into two works for pre and post-graduation so it definitely won't be short. Please tell me what you think, I'd love to hear any comments or feedback <3


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